


The Awkward Phone Call

by BellaStewart11



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 06:49:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5365430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BellaStewart11/pseuds/BellaStewart11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Sunday morning phone call from Sally doesn't quite go as planned. Established Mystrade (Mycroft Holmes / Greg Lestrade). First Mystrade fic. One-Shot. Rated T for implied content and language.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Awkward Phone Call

**Author's Note:**

> (A/N): This is the first Mystrade fic/Oneshot I've actually managed to completely write up so please don't judge me too harshly. It was merely an idea that sprang from a funny situation. Because of that I want to thank Ru for being my inspiration for this ;).  
>  As always, Enjoy. 
> 
> ~Bella. x.

The Awkward Phone Call.

Sunday mornings are always the best days in Greg’s opinion, he gets to lie in bed for hours with his utterly gorgeous boyfriend before getting up and watching Mycroft sip his perfectly ‘him’ Assam tea at the kitchen table, dressed in Greg’s oversized football shirt, while Greg cooks their breakfast. That was true perfection in Greg’s eyes. The scruffy football shirt, miss matched with far too expensive cotton pyjama bottoms and all summed up with a very cute and sleepy Mycroft. The ginger hair was the worst part, it just seemed to entice Greg on a morning by sticking up in multiple sexy directions. Some days it was just too much for Greg to handle and by the time he’d dealt with the situation, breakfast was nearly ruined. Today was one of those amazing Sunday mornings.

Greg had come downstairs at his usual time, commonly known as “far too early for a normal person on a Sunday” by Mycroft, who stayed in bed until the smell of bacon and tea floating upstairs pulled the ability of sleeping away from him. The first rule of living with Mycroft was that tea always came first, something the DI had never quite caught onto with his forever loyal love for a good coffee. Therefore, the first thing to happen once arriving downstairs was the Nespresso machine being put on. This had been probably his most used Christmas present from Sherlock last year, who in turn adored the pair of ears Greg had acquired for him (Even if they had only lasted a few days’ worth of experiments). Pushing the vile thoughts of exploding ears out of his mind, Greg began to get out the pans and bacon ready to cook breakfast, humming to himself over the quiet rumble of the coffee machine. Leaning over the sink, Greg tapped the IPod dock so that his playlist began. Much to Mycroft’s distaste, this playlist mainly consisted of Christmas songs. It was November….but to Greg that didn’t matter. As soon as London switched on it’s Christmas lights in November that was the cue for Greg to get his festive music back on his IPod. Dancing along to Suzy Snowflake, Greg began heating up oil and prepping bread for London’s finest bacon sandwiches. The chill of the tiled floor not putting off Greg’s sockless feet from dancing all over them as he cooked.

Approximately 30 seconds after the bacon entered the pan was when Mycroft managed to drag himself out of bed. How such a delicious smell managed to travel through a large house like theirs so quickly, Greg would never know. But in preparation for the impending Myc, the kettle was always boiled and ready before the bacon even got close to the frying pan. Exactly on time, Mycroft glided silently into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around the detective’s waist to stop his bum wiggling to the music.

“Do I really have to wake up to this from now on?”

“Good morning to you too Grumpy-pants.” Greg chuckled, turning the music down slightly before turning to face his lover.

“But really though, it’s November!”

“So?” Greg smirked, “London switched on its Christmas lights on Friday. You know the rules better than anyone.”

Mycroft let out a groan, untangling himself from Greg as he went to the comfort of his tea that had placed on the kitchen table. Greg watched, smiling as Mycroft visibly woke up more from sipping his tea, the image was bliss on mornings such as these.

Just as Greg got lost in his thoughts, he was abruptly pulled out of them again as his phone vibrated loudly on the counter. Moving to pick up the phone, Greg’s expression became puzzled. Sally didn’t usually call on a Sunday which confused Greg even further as he carefully moved the breakfast from the hob in order for it not to burn while he was talking.

"Hey, I know it's a Sunday and it's not your day but you'll really want to see this."

"Why, what's happened?"

Greg's phone fell to a muffled noise that Mycroft couldn't hear as Sally's voice dropped to an awkward mumble.

There was a slight pause as Greg's face contorted between emotions, accurately showing the seriousness of the case. He let out a long troubled sigh, almost like a low whistle.

"Fuck me...” His expression was pained, his hand came up to cover his mouth as he said it.

Mycroft scoffed into his tea before taking a moment to recover from the sentence he had just heard. "You know, Gregory, you only have to ask." He remarked quickly, sipping his tea again to hide his smile.

Greg's mouth fell open at the sudden change of mood, courtesy of Mycroft. He turned to look at the offender, his phone coming away from his ear slightly, his expression almost confused. Greg shook his head to clear it, putting his phone back to his ear, his face now determined as he cut Sally off.

"Sorry Sally, I've got to go. Call Dimmock if you're stuck. I have a…” He paused, trying to think of the correct phrase, “....Government issue."

A disgusted noise came from the other end of the phone as Greg hung up, throwing the phone gently onto the work surface as he turned back to face Mycroft. He folded his arms across his chest, debating what his next move should be like this was a game of chess. His look was lustful in every way possible, his bottom lip clasped between his teeth slightly and his eyes shimmering yet focused as he looked at the sexy piece of Mycroft sat at the table.

Greg pushed off the counter he was leaning on and set towards Myc slowly, stopping when he was about a meter away.

"Alright, Witty. What should we do with you, hmm?"

Mycroft leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest in his very 'I'm so government' pose. He was very clearly enjoying this which only encouraged Greg more.

"I believe what happened, Gregory” Mycroft’s voice coming out in a purr that made Greg shiver, “was that I merely delicately responded to your request, although you're yet to actually ask...” Mycroft smirked, standing up to join Greg, suddenly very close to him. This stance and proximity would normally be what sent Mycroft’s clients spilling their secrets in fear. But not Greg, he saw it so very differently. To him, it was a very sexy man in front of him, whom he had the pleasure of calling his boyfriend, and who wasn't standing close enough with far too many clothes on.

“If I ask, am I guaranteed to get what I want?” A smile played on Greg’s lips as he looked up at Myc, taking a step ever so slightly closer, evidently pushing his luck.

Mycroft smirked at his words before lowering his mouth gently to Greg’s ear, just close enough to whisper.

“Why don’t you come with me upstairs and I can show you instead.”


End file.
